


Tremble

by ericaismeg



Series: 30 Days of Writing [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Days of Sterek, 30 Days of Writing, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Brothels, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, POV Alternating, Prostitute Derek, Prostitution Roleplay, Sexual Tension, Stiles Loses His Virginity, Virgin Stiles, hooker!Derek, just go with it, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:51:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1693925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericaismeg/pseuds/ericaismeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wants to lose his virginity <i>now</i>. Lydia mentions she knows somebody who could get Stiles a prostitute if it'll just make Stiles shut up about it already. Derek shows up at his door with flowers, and Stiles is a goner. The night doesn't go as either of them expect, and Stiles wants to know if Derek will be there in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tremble

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm finishing this [writing challenge](http://foxerica.tumblr.com/post/84097258077/felicitygs-spontaneousfangasm).
> 
> Day Twenty Five
> 
> FIVE. DAYS. LEFT. (Is anyone else sad?!)
> 
> Word of the Day: tremble.
> 
> ***  
> (I'm just going to ask you suspend your disbelief and say that I hope you enjoy it?!)

            “Your sex lives sound dry,” Lydia says. She has her feet propped up onto the bottom bar of Stiles' kitchen island stool. She glances up at Scott and Allison, who both look mildly offended.

            “I'm sorry that we don't always have passionate make-outs with random boys,” Allison says, leaning into Scott. Allison’s face softens though. “I know it's been tough on you since Jackson left, Lyd.”

            Stiles watches as Lydia's shoulders drop slightly. She closes her book and nods. “You're right, that wasn't fair of me. I'm sure you guys have fun. I’m just annoyed because no one gets my body like Jackson did.”

            “You know who _isn't_ having any fun?” Stiles says, pouting. His three friends look at him. Scott already knows what's coming, and puts a hand on his shoulder. Allison gives him a sympathetic look, and Lydia just looks as bored as ever. “Me! I'm not having any fun. No sexy times or _anything_.”

            Lydia kicks her feet off Stiles' stool and stands up. She drops her book onto her chair and then walks over to the fridge door. “If you're so annoyed, change it.”

            “Don't you think I would if I could?” Stiles asks. “I'm just sick of being the _only_ one who's still a virgin. You guys get to talk about your tender lovings, and Lydia gets to talk about the latest boy who's torn off her clothes or ripped another pair of underwear, and I'm doing nothing with nobody.”

            Lydia tosses Allison a water bottle, and grabs one for herself. She shuts the fridge and sighs. “Stiles, if you want to have sex, _have sex_.”

            “Like it's that fucking easy,” Stiles whines. “I got Scott to subtly ask Danny about me, but he says he doesn't want to be responsible for my virginity.”

            “So he'd sleep with you if you weren't a virgin?” Allison asks, eyebrows in the air. “That seems odd.”

            “Just lose your virginity and sleep with Danny, then,” Lydia suggests as she picks up her book again to sit back down.

            “Yeah, because losing my virginity has been _so_ easy,” Stiles mumbles. He's trying not to be whiny about the whole thing, but that's _all_ anyone's been talking about lately. He's twenty years old for fuck's sake. He wants to know what he's missing out on. “I'm pretty sure I repulse everyone.”

            “Stiles, that's not true,” Allison says, ever the defender. Stiles loves her for it—even if he's heard her moaning while having sex with Scott. Which is why he should have gotten himself a bachelor apartment. Then again, how weird would it have been if he hadn't moved in with Scott after high school?

            “It is too,” Stiles whines.

            “No, it isn't,” Scott counters.

            “Then _why_ am I still a virgin?” Stiles asks, frowning at them both. “I haven't met _anyone_ at college whose willing to sleep with me. Or that I'm willing to sleep with, to be honest. People suck.”

            “Stop complaining because you haven't found a mutual interest in someone,” Lydia tells him. “You're clearly not repulsing everyone if you haven't found anyone attractive either.”

            “Ugh.”

            Lydia starts to open her book again, and then suggests, “Hire a hooker or something.”

            “Gee, _thanks_. Are you telling me that in order to lose my virginity, I have to _pay_ someone?” Stiles snorts, with ruffled feathers because _c'mon Lydia_. Not helping the self-esteem here.

            Lydia raises her head to look at him. “No, I'm not. You're perfectly suitable to have sex with. I'm saying it because you'd have more control over how it goes, since you'd be paying. You'd also be guaranteed sex, so you wouldn't be insecure or have to worry about it not happening. Also, you can have all the sex with Danny afterwards, since you'll no longer be a virgin.”

            “Don't do that,” Allison says, shaking her head. “You'll find someone who will want to be with and you'll want to be with.”

            Stiles groans and puts his head down on the counter.

            “Besides, don't you want it to mean something?” Scott asks gently. Stiles waves a hand in the air.

            “Yeah, sure, maybe.” Stiles doesn't know. He turns to look at Lydia. “Where would I even find a hooker?”

            Lydia smiles. “I know someone who is kind of like a pimp for male prostitutes. She basically runs a brothel at this point.”

            “ _How_?” Stiles sputters. He looks at Scott and Allison who both seem as surprised as he is. “How is it that you know these kind of people?”

            “They're just trying to make a living like you or I, Stiles.” Lydia turns the next page in her book. “I'll see if I can get you a discount if that's what you want to do.”

            Stiles blinks, and swallows hard. “I...I'm not sure. Get a quote for me.”

            “Stiles, are you sure you want to consider this?”

            He looks over, to see how Scott and Allison are leaning into each other, holding hands, stroking their thumbs against one another. He nods. “Yeah, Scott. I think it's about high time that your Stiles loses his boyhood and becomes a man.”

            “You know that losing your virginity doesn't make you a man, right?” Allison asks.

            “Of course,” he says.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            When he wakes up the following morning, he receives a text from Lydia.

 

 **LYDIA:** _if you just want an hour, it'll be $150 for the full-service (I took the liberty of assuming that you'd want foreplay)_  
 **LYDIA:** _it's an additional $50 if you want to be on top_  
 **LYDIA:** _and $1400 for a whole night (that's 9pm to 6am)  
_ **LYDIA:** _I'm going to forward you Erica Reyes' number—she has all of your info except your credit card number and your availability_

            He has to reread the texts at least twice. Scott had pointed out that he'd wanted to lose his virginity with meaning, but then again, Stiles hasn't found anyone meaningful while being at college. He needs to try _something_. He's currently sporting morning wood and he doesn't even want to bother jacking off to get rid of it.

It'll take forever, since he's been losing interest in himself (and that makes him worried).

**STILES:** _you're the best, Lyds_

 **LYDIA:** _if you need to borrow cash, I'd be willing to support you if it means you'll stop making such a big deal about being a virgin  
_ **LYDIA:** _I love you though_

**STILES:** _I know and you're awesome, thank you  
_ **STILES:** _and love you too_

He dials the number, trying not to think about the fact that he's actually doing this. He'd been working a lot, and without feeling motivated to buy himself anything special, he'd saved up quite a bit. If he blows it on one night, well, why the hell not?

            Fourteen hundred is a lot of money though.

            “ _Hello, this is Erica. How may I help you today?_ ” a feminine voice comes.

            Stiles blinks and decides, _fuck it_. He only lives once. It might even make a great story one day. “Hi Erica. This is Stiles Stilinski. Lydia spoke with you.”

            “ _Hello Stiles! She said you were looking for something to mix up your routine. I would like to get your credit card information and your availability before we discuss what you're looking for and who I can send over_ ,” Erica says in a very professional voice.

            Stiles isn't that surprised. She must deal with a lot of creeps. Stiles recites his credit card information off the top of his head, and then says, “What about tomorrow night?”

            “ _Tomorrow night_ ,” Erica echos. She taps something on a computer and then says, “ _I have three men available—Lydia said you were looking for a guy._ ”

            Technically, he's bisexual, and so he's a little surprised that Lydia took the liberty of assuming that he wanted a guy. Then again, Stiles thinks that maybe a guy hooker would be better for him. He nods, despite Erica being unable to see him. “Yes, yeah.”

            “ _Tell me what you're looking for tomorrow night, and I'll see which one is the best match for you_ ,” Erica tells him.         

            Stiles frowns. “Um, I'm not...not sure what I'm looking for. What do callers normally say?”

            Erica laughs at this and then gently tells him, “ _It varies. Some want to dominate, or be dominated. Some want vanilla sex, and some like it rough with bondage. Whatever you want, it's probably nothing we haven't heard before. Our boys can do anything from playing out role-play or—_ ”

            “Role-play?” Stiles asks, his voice squeaking more than he wants it to. “What kind of role-play?”

            “ _Anything_ ,” Erica tells him, sounding amused. “ _If we don't have any costumes in stock, we just charge it to your credit card and you get to keep them._ ”

            “I...oh. Um, does it have to be a costume role-play?” Stiles asks nervously. He runs his hands through his hair.

            “ _Not at all. Is there a fantasy you'd like to play out_?” Erica asks.

            He figures that Erica's probably heard it all. She most likely won't judge him, so he blurts, “Can I have a boyfriend fantasy?”

            “ _Sure, our better boyfriend-fantasy men aren't working tomorrow night though. I have one who has done it before though, and I didn't hear any complaints. Would that be okay?_ ” Erica asks him. “ _I could send you a photo._ ”

            “Uh, yeah, sure. Send the photo.” He lists off his email address, and then goes to his laptop. He waits nervously until it dings.

            He opens it and then chokes on air. Erica laughs into the phone. “ _I'm guessing you opened the photo?_ ”

            “Yeah,” Stiles whispers. His eyes search around the face of the man, and _dammit_ , he's gorgeous. “Yeah, I want him.”

            “ _Perfect. Where would you like him to meet you_?” Erica asks.

            He lists off the local motel, and decides to book a room. Erica tells him to mention her name, and he'll get a discount. Stiles thanks her, and they hang up.

            He reaches out and touches the man's face on his screen. They would be having sex tomorrow night. How surreal.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

 **ERICA:** _the motel, room 7, tonight at 9pm_  
 **ERICA:** _expect to stay the night—full service  
_ **ERICA:** _boyfriend-fantasy_

            Derek groans. He hates doing the boyfriend-fantasy. It usually means ugly men who have uglier personalities. They always claimed they wanted to do the whole boyfriend-thing, but it always seems to turn out to be them dominating him.

            Not that he minds too much, he gets paid extra, but sometimes they're too rough—even for him.

            He stabs out a response.

 

 **DEREK:** _I thought I told you no more of that_

 **ERICA:** _make an exception this time_  
 **ERICA:** _you're going to want to  
_ **ERICA:** _trust me_

            She worries him whenever she says those two words. Derek shrugs it off, and decides that it's money. If he wants to pay rent this month after he finishes paying off the last of Cora's schooling, he'd have to get the full night.

**DEREK:** _fine_

 **ERICA:** _bring this one flowers  
_ **ERICA:** _I've been told he's new to this_

 **DEREK:** _no to the flowers_

 **ERICA:** _do it, okay?_

            He tosses his phone onto his bed before he belly-flops onto it. He groans into his pillow. The things he does (in secret) for his sisters...the list is piling up to be quite large. Derek wishes he had been able to find any other option. No one wanted a high school dropout though.

            It's not Derek's fault that he had become a high school dropout. He'd worked under the table at a local bar until it closed down. He had to make cash fast if he was going to help his sisters get through college. Their parents had died in a freak fire in their cabin up north and their insurance had only lasted them six months.

            He'd been on the streets for about seven months when he'd run into Erica Reyes, an old friend from high school before his parents' deaths. She'd figured out what he was doing pretty quickly, and discouraged him from doing it. He hadn't been able to find another job though.

            After a particularly rough night, and Erica had seen the cuts underneath his eye, she'd demanded he move in with her. His sisters had moved into residences at college, so he could save money by living with Erica.

            One thing led to another, and now Erica runs a brothel. It's not officially that, but she makes sure that all of the boys living under her roof are taken care of. It had started off as an accident. Erica had started taking calls for Derek, turning down anyone who sounded too dangerous. Then one night, Derek had run into a kid named Isaac.

            He'd brought him home that night, and Erica had taken one look at the kid and decided that he should stay with them as well. It'd become a safe house, where Erica negotiated and refused certain men. She'd given each of them a fake name, and told them to use it at all costs.

            Isaac had brought a guy he'd known from the streets, Boyd, in. Boyd hadn't turned tricks, but as far as Derek knows, he hadn't had anywhere else to go. Erica had fallen in love with him, Derek had had fun watching that (anything to distract him from the creepy men he'd been sleeping with) and so now Boyd is their official bodyguard.

            There are a total of twelve people, not including Derek, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac living in the house. Erica manages them all, making sure she knows where each of them are at all times, and checking in on them when their shifts are supposed to be done.

            It had started off as a rocky system, but now Derek's grateful for it. He's listened into a few of Erica's phone call interviews with potential clients, and she's a tough sell. That's why they could charge more, because there's a hint of exclusivity.

            He glances at the clock. He has to waste nine hours before he is showing up at the creepy motel and fake wooing some creepy old man. _Great_.

            Derek pulls the pillow over his head. He's going to sleep some more. Fuck the energy that goes into the boyfriend-fantasy.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            When Derek arrives at the cheap motel, he glares at the flowers on the seat beside him. He hadn't meant to care about the kind of flowers he was getting this client. Yet he'd still doubted his choice, until the florist had told him that wild flowers are acceptable for a first date (since roses screamed too romantic, too serious, too soon). Derek hadn't corrected the florist and told her that these are for a man.

            He debates on whether or not he should just leave the flowers in the car.

 

 **DEREK:** _are the flowers necessary?_

 **ERICA:** _listen, this is a friend of someone I know personally_  
 **ERICA:** _from what I know, this kid needs some romance  
_ **ERICA:** _and besides, he could be a returning client if you play your cards right_

Derek does enjoy returning clients—when he knows exactly what they want, exactly what to expect. He doesn't have to play these stupid guessing games or get nervous because he doesn't know what's coming.

            He grabs the damn flowers and gets out of the car. When he knocks on Room 7, he hears a loud crash. There's some shuffling, and then the door swings open.

            _Holy shit, this is just a kid_.

            “Holy shit, you're here,” the kid says, blinking with wide honey eyes. He stumbles backwards. “The photo Erica sent me didn't do you justice. _Crap_. I am so out of my element here.”

            “I.D.,” Derek demands. There's no way he's legal. Even if he is, he's definitely the youngest client that Derek's ever had. He's actually _close_ to Derek's age. Tonight would be different, because he wouldn't be climbing on the back of some fifty-year old secretly gay man.

            “What? Oh, yeah! That makes sense,” the kid says, rushing back into the room. He comes back a few minutes later and holds it out. “You've got the right room if that's what you were wondering.”

            “You're legal,” Derek mutters as though the words are curse words. He meets the kids' eyes. Stiles Stilinski. That sounds familiar, but Derek doesn't care. He lifts the flowers he'd hid behind his back. “I'm your boyfriend for the evening.”

            Stiles blinks. “You got me...you got me flowers?”

            “Yes, Er—”

            “Wow,” Stiles interrupts. He reaches out to take them. He lifts them to his nose and then his bright eyes shine at Derek. “Thank you. That's so...sweet. And totally unexpected. I...come in, please.”

            Somehow, the flowers have seemed to calm Stiles' nervous chatter, so Derek is relieved. He steps into the crappy motel room, and is surprised to see that the usual blankets aren't on the bed. Instead, there's a Batman comforter.

            When Stiles sees his confused expression, he says, “Oh! I hate motel bedding, so I brought some of my old stuff to replace it. I hope that's not weird. I loved Batman as a kid, so...”

            Derek shakes his head, smiling slightly. “No, it's...it'll be a nice change.”

            Stiles beams at this. “Oh good, I'm glad! I'm Stiles, by the way.”

            He'd gotten that from his I.D. He just says, “Derek.”

            _Shit_ , he's not supposed to use his real name. Where had _that_ come from? Derek looks over at Stiles, who is switching the real flowers for some fake ones in a tall vase.

            “It's nice to meet you, Derek. I'm going to put some water in this. I'll be right back,” Stiles tells him, disappearing into the bathroom.

            He hears the water running.

**DEREK:** _this kid is twenty_  
 **DEREK:** _and gorgeous  
_ **DEREK:** _and he loved the flowers (he's putting them in water right now)_

**ERICA:** _perfect, so he’s only two years younger than you!  
_ **ERICA:** _have fun :)_

He puts his phone away, and then glances around the room. There are subtle changes, but they're there. The kid clearly hates motels as much as he does. He has a laptop on the desk, opened up to a movie. Derek leans forward to see if he can recognize it. _The Avengers_ , of course.

            Then Derek spots the book on the nightstand. He walks over to it, barely noticing that the bathroom sink has shut off. He picks up the book, and smiles. _The Adventures of Robin Hood._ What a strange guy. Derek wouldn't have pegged him for a classic book kind of guy, but then again, Derek's not sure he would've pegged tonight for already going the way it is.

            “That book is great,” Stiles says when he comes back into the room. He carefully sets the vase on the counter top. “Have you read it?”

            “No,” Derek answers. “I haven't read many classics.”

            “Definitely take the time to read that one,” Stiles tells him. Derek sets the book down and watches as Stiles fixes the flowers. “I don't really know how this works, to be honest. But I wanted to make sure that your flowers don't go to waste.”

            “They'll die eventually anyway,” Derek answers.

            “Yes, so we should enjoy them for as long as we can.” Stiles smiles at him and then rubs the back of his neck. “So, uh, what happens now?”

            Derek smiles. “You tell me.”

♚♞♚♞♚♞

            _Holy shit, this is happening_ , Stiles thinks to himself. Derek the hooker is standing in this motel room. They're going to have sex tonight. How ridiculously insane this is. God, this has happened so damn fast. Stiles rubs his hands together and then he sits down on the end of the bed.

            Derek moves to sit beside him.

            “I don't normally do this kind of thing,” Stiles starts telling him. “In fact, I've _never_ done anything like this before.”

            “It's okay to be nervous,” Derek tells him quietly.

            “But I need you to understand. This is the most _outrageous_ thing I've ever done,” Stiles starts rambling. “And it's so stupid, but all of my friends are having regular sex and I just...”

            He doesn't want to tell Derek he's a virgin.

            “You just haven't gotten any in a while?” Derek fills for him.

            Stiles smiles, tightly, and nods. “Yeah. So my friend suggested I hire a hooker, and then she practically set it up. I talked to Erica yesterday and here we are.”

            Derek lets out the smallest chuckle. “Stiles, I'm a _hooker_. I'm not going to judge you if that's what you're worried about.”

            He snorts. “I'm not worried about that. I guess I'm still talking myself into this.”

            “Oh.” There's almost a ring of disappointment in his voice. “How about I tell you what I can do for you, and you tell me if you'd be into it or not.”

            Stiles nods. “Sure, yeah, okay. That would be good.”

            “You have me for the whole night, so that includes anything like hand jobs, blow jobs, rimming, and sex. If you want to do something other than the boyfriend-fantasy, we can do that too. If you say no or stop at anytime, we _stop_ ,” Derek tells him, with a sharp nod.

            Stiles can't resist. He says, “And if _you_ say stop, we stop.”

            Derek looks surprised, as though Stiles had taken the words out of his mouth. He doesn't say anything in response, just nods. “We can go as slow as you want, or as hard. Whatever you want. You bought me for the night.”

            “But that doesn't mean that I own you,” Stiles blurts. He wants to slap his hands over his face. _God_ , why does he have to be so fucking soft sometimes? Scott's right. He wanted to lose his virginity to someone who means something to him. As he looks at Derek though, he knows he'd be absolutely insane to pass this opportunity up. He frowns. “I said I want the boyfriend-fantasy thing. That means you have to believe that _this_ is even grounds. I have not 'bought' you, okay? Yes, I'm paying you, but I don't want to do _anything_ you don't want to do. I'm not that kind of guy.”

            Derek tilts his head, studying Stiles very carefully.

            “What do _you_ want to do?” Stiles asks him.

            “I...” Derek falters. He says, honesty ringing in his voice, “I've never been asked that before.”

            Stiles nods, understanding. He can't imagine that in Derek's line of work people paid too much attention to him as a person. And Stiles wants to do just that. He wants to be different, to leave an impact on Derek. If that means losing his virginity was meaningful in the fact that he gave a hooker what _they_ wanted instead of vice versa, he'll take it.

            “We can talk, you can think about it, if you want,” Stiles says, smiling a little.

            Derek says, “You'd be surprised how often people just want some company. But...that's really up to you.”

            “No,” Stiles says. “It's up to us. So let's compromise. Let's talk for a bit, and see where it goes.”

            “Stiles, this isn't a date, you know. You _have_ paid for me,” Derek tells him.

            He stretches out and leans back onto the bed. “I know, Derek. Indulge me.”

            Derek smiles a little, and lies down beside him.

            They start talking.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            This is the most bizarre thing that's happened to Derek since he'd become a prostitute. He's genuinely laughing at Stiles' story and he places his palm on his stomach, trying to catch his breath. He rolls over onto his side to face Stiles.

            “That's ridiculous,” Derek tells him. He can't believe he's _enjoying_ himself with a client. Not to mention the fact that Stiles had asked what Derek wanted to do to him. He's had clients demand that Derek talk dirty to them and tell him things he wanted to do to them, but it'd always been in character. It'd never been real.

            “It's true,” Stiles says, grinning. “So are you like _Pretty Woman_?”

            “Do you mean, do I kiss?” Derek asks. He snorts. “I kiss. I enjoy kissing, most times.”

            “Yeah?” Stiles breathes.

            Derek smirks and leans forward. He doesn't mean for the kiss to be as tender and soft as it is, but he doesn't deepen it.

            They'd talked for the past two hours about how and why Derek's a prostitute. Stiles asks if Derek is going to get his GED, which Derek had just decided to do earlier this morning. It was time for him to get out of this world.

            They'd talked about the craziest fantasies people had had, and things he'd done and hated. Then Stiles had told him all about his friends—Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Danny. He' confided that Danny said he'd sleep with him if he had more experience, to which Derek had told him that chemistry between two people outweighs experience.

            Stiles had lit up at those words.

            Then they talked about their favourite movies, favourite books, and favourite moments. Now they're kissing and Derek isn't sure he wants it to end just yet. Still he pulls back and whispers, “Is that okay?”

            “Uh huh, yes, oh my god,” Stiles breathes. He leans forward to kiss Derek again, and this time the kiss is deepened. Stiles lifts a hand to settle it on the back of Derek's head, and he shifts closer.

            Stiles shifts his lips slightly, and tugs on Derek's bottom lip. He asks, “Is this okay for you?”

            “Yes,” Derek breathes. He moves in closer to Stiles, hooking a leg over his. “I'm so turned on right now, and let me tell you, _that_ never happens because of a silly kiss.”

            Stiles laughs and pulls Derek in closer. “This doesn't feel like I paid for you to kiss me.”

            “No, it doesn't,” Derek murmurs honestly. He presses his lips against Stiles, and then rolls his body so he hovers above him. “Tell me what you want, Stiles.”

            “Touch me, Derek. Touch me everywhere.”

            “That won't be a hardship,” Derek murmurs. He puts his lips on Stiles' collarbone. “How can I want you this badly?”

            “I don't know, but if you keep talking like that, I'm not going to last until our clothes are off,” Stiles says, laughing.

            Derek leans up to kiss Stiles again. It's tender, soft, until it's not. It's suddenly filled with desperation that Derek hasn't felt since he was sixteen. He's trying to ignore the confusion. How has he never felt _this_ turned on before? How is it that some kid is making him feel like he should have when he was a teenager? Derek moves his body in close against Stiles, wanting to touch him everywhere.

            What the hell is Stiles' doing with his tongue? _Oh. Oh dear god, yeah okay. He can do that with his tongue_. _Holy god_ , Derek thinks about what his tongue might be able to do in other places and his body jerks a little.

            Derek pulls Stiles upwards gently by his shoulder. He's squatting on Stiles' legs, their chests close together, and Derek's eyes keep searching Stiles. Are there answers to why Derek feels a little drunk on him there?

            He tugs Stiles's shirt off, only pausing midway to ask, “Is this okay?” Stiles nods and then the shirt is off and on the floor somewhere.

            Derek leans in to kiss Stiles again. His hands are roaming his chest and his back. He finds Stiles' hands and intertwines their fingers.

            Then he realizes that Stiles is trembling. He pulls away, to watch his lips tremble as well.

            “Stiles,” Derek breathes. “Is this too much, too fast?”

            Stiles blinks. “No, it's good. It's just...”

            “You're nervous,” Derek says, frowning. He starts to shift off of Stiles, only to be stopped with a sharp protest.

            “It's just, uh, Derek, this is my first time.”

            “ _What_?” Derek sputters.

            Stiles uses his free hand to rub it through his hair. “Yeah, um, I'm a virgin.”

            “I don't do virgins, Stiles.”

            The kid laughs as if he he'd expected that. “I've been hearing that a lot lately.”

            Derek studies Stiles. His body is still shaking ever so slightly. Derek squeezes his hand. “I'll make an exception if you tell me why you want to lose your virginity to a hooker.”

            Stiles seems nervous. He looks at Derek and says, “Honesty I wanted to know what it was like. What sex was like. Now I want to know what it's like with _you_.”

            Derek debates his answer. They'd only known each other for two hours, but he understands exactly how Stiles feels. He wants to know what it's like to have sex with Stiles too.

            “Fine, but it'll cost you.”

            “Anything,” Stiles says desperately.

            Derek smirks. He leans back in to kiss Stiles. When they part for air, Derek tells him, “I want to see your face when I make you come.”

            Stiles blinks, and then laughs. “That I can promise you isn't as attractive as I wish it was.”

            “You've watched yourself get off?” Derek says, his voice close to a growl.

            Stiles nods.

            Derek pushes him back onto the bed, prepared to get him good and ready. Because the idea of Stiles watching himself... _god_ , it's so fucking hot. Derek doesn't rush this tonight. No, for once, he's glad that he has an all-night client.

            His kisses are softer, more gentle, and he feels Stiles' trembling start to disappear.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

           

            “Imagine all the romance around you. Music dancing in the air, candles flickering, rose petals scattered on the floor,” Derek whispers into his ear as his fingers trail up and down Stiles' chest. “Imagine that you're in Paris or Rome or wherever you want to be.”

            “It doesn't have to be like that,” Stiles whispers. “It could just be like this with you.”

            “Sh,” Derek tells him. “Romance, Stiles. Romance, you deserve romance. So pretend with me. Pretend that we just came back from a date.”

            “Okay,” Stiles answers. He smiles at Derek, who rubs his face into the crook of his neck. It's more intimate than it should be.

            “I gave you flowers when we met,” Derek tells him. He starts moving down Stiles' body, kissing all over his chest. “They were a dozen roses.”

            “I like the wild flowers,” Stiles whispers as he arches his stomach up a little more.

            “Wild flowers then,” Derek corrects. “Imagine that we're laughing over some really good food. There's candles, and we're out on a patio. It's warm. The moon's in the air.”

            “Jesus Christ,” Stiles whispers as Derek's tongue slides across the skin above his jeans.

            “I told you how damn good you look in the moonlight,” Derek tells him as he starts tugging on his jeans zipper. “We're holding hands.”

            “Dancing,” Stiles breathes. He tries to help Derek get his jeans off, but realizes that Derek's content with pulling them off at a painfully slow pace.

            “Dancing,” Derek echos. “We go dancing. _Frank Sinatra_ is playing. I hold you close, because I'm not letting go of you.”

            “Never, don't,” Stiles says. His tone is all plead.

            Derek gets his jeans down just pass his ass. “You deserve the world, Stiles Stilinski.”

            “So do you.”

            Derek pulls the jeans down closer to Stiles' knees. He drops a kiss on one of Stiles' thighs, making him gasp in surprise. Derek grins to himself, clearly pleased. “What else do you want?”

            “You, that's all I want,” Stiles whimpers. “I want you to touch me, Derek. Please, touch me.”

            Derek chuckles. He finally manages to get Stiles' damn fucking pants to his ankles. He carefully tugs them all the way off, and then starts trailing kisses in between his words as he moves back up Stiles' thighs. “You look so damn good, Stiles. Chocolate, we have chocolate cake for dessert.”

            “With strawberries,” Stiles gasps. He keeps arching his back, wanting more, but Derek isn't giving it to him just yet. _Goddammit_.

            Stiles has never been this turned on before. He's pretty sure Derek's about to ruin him for any other fucking person. Stiles doesn't even care. He could get himself off for the next five years on the memory of Derek's voice.

            “You offer me a strawberry in between your lips,” Derek tells him as he moves his body back up against Stiles until his voice is beside Stiles' ear again. “Want me to show you how I get it from you?”

            “ _Yes_.”

            Derek's lips are back on his again. This time as Derek kisses Stiles, he cups and rubs Stiles' boxers. He has to dig his hand into his WonderWoman bedsheets and remember how to breathe.

            Derek's moving back down his body again. _Fuck_ , Stiles can't handle this anymore. He's about to beg, when Derek brushes his mouth on the outside of his boxers.

            Stiles' entire body jerks.

            “You're trembling again,” Derek comments with a frown a few minutes later. His hands were about to pull down Stiles' boxers, but Stiles can see the concern on his face.

            He grins. “This time it's with anticipation. I swear to god if you don't _touch me right now_ , I'm going to combust.”

            “Well I don't want that, now do I?” Derek teases. He pulls Stiles' boxers off in one quick motion. “Stiles, you are beautiful.”

            He chuckles despite how tight his body is in desperate need for Derek to get it on. He wiggles his eyebrows. “Show me what you want to do to this beautiful body—but first, take your shirt off.”

            Derek rips it in half and throws it somewhere. Stiles' lips part in surprise, and then pleasure when he feels Derek's wet lips on his cock.

            _Holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit._

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            “I can't believe that just happened,” Stiles murmurs four hours later. They had just had sex for the second time. He yawns and curls up against Derek. From what he'd learned none of what they had done tonight had Derek done with a normal client.

            “Me neither,” Derek admits, nuzzling his face into Stiles. “I wasn't expecting you.”

            “Ha,” Stiles murmurs. He smiles. “I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who will be able to say that I had the best sex of my life when I lost my virginity.”

            “That's not even half of it,” Derek says, laughing.

            “Wow,” Stiles answers idly. He runs a hand through Derek's hair. “Are you still going to be here when I wake up?”

            Derek lifts his head. He sighs and says, “No. But...Stiles, tonight? Tonight was incredible.”

            Stiles gives him a sad smile, and nods. Knowing it won't go anywhere beyond tonight hurts more than Stiles wants to admit. He'd be able to tell people he had mind-blowing sex when he lost his virginity, but he wouldn't be able to tell them how ridiculously _attached_ he'd gotten to the hooker he'd lost it to in one night.

            He needs to distance himself. “How much is Erica going to charge me?”

            Derek stills. “She'll call you in the morning to confirm the charges.”

            “Okay,” Stiles murmurs. “I...thanks, Derek.”

            “It's my job,” Derek mutters. He rolls over, away from Stiles, and Stiles feels empty once more.

            He passes out just before Derek gets up to leave.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            When Stiles wakes up around 10am the following day, he curses because he's going to be late for check-out. He packs up as quickly as he can, realizing how dumb it was to bring in his own bedding. He shoves it into his suitcase, starts to leave, and just happens to notice a piece of paper on the desk.

            His fingers tremble as he picks it up.

 

**_Meet me at Fancy's at seven o'clock this Friday if you want to have that date we talked about last night._ **

**** **_-D_ **

****

            As his lips curl up into a smile, Stiles holds the note against his chest. He feels relief rushing through him and heads out so he can go brag to his friends about how fucking awesome his night was.

            He'd make them listen to every detail.

            And then he'd brag about how he was good enough that the guy he was paying to have sex with him wants to date him.

**Author's Note:**

> A few things, I'd like to point out. Firstly, I hope you all aren't upset that Stiles lost his virginity to a prostitute. Not that he has any regrets, because have you _seen_ Derek Hale? 
> 
> Secondly, I hope this AU was alright. I was kinda like 'omg I want to write a prostitute!au' but I'm not sure how well it turned out. 
> 
> Thirdly, Derek gets his high school diploma, ends up helping Erica change their technical-brothel into a safe house for struggling teens. Boyd stays on as the body guard. Isaac goes to school to become a therapist (ee!). It gets all official by the government and everything. Oh, and the Sheriff finds out that Stiles fell in love with an ex-prostitute, but it's all good because Derek makes Stiles happy. Just in case you were wondering.
> 
> I am so sad that there's only five days left! And I have no idea what's going to come in those five days. I've looked at my remaining words and am totally clueless. (Why did I leave the harder words for last?! - Wish me luck.)
> 
> · **If you're following the series, please drop by[here](http://www.foxerica.tumblr.com/talktome) and let me know if you haven't already! ** I want to make sure I can thank as many people as possible for your support and wonderfulness for following this series. (Especially guests without ao3 accounts - give me a real/fake name and let me add you to my list please!)  
>  · I posted a SECOND sneak peek of my fic, Just the Same, that will be posted every Monday and Thursday starting June 2nd, 2014. (There are seven parts in total). Go [here](http://foxerica.tumblr.com/post/86068765337/below-the-read-more-you-will-find-a-sneak-peek) to see the first sneak peek and [here](http://foxerica.tumblr.com/post/86638185582/30-days-of-writing-skipping-todays-fic) for the second.  
> · [tumblr](http://www.foxerica.tumblr.com)  
> · YOU GUYS HAVE BEEN WONDERFUL and I love you all.


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